Dance With Me

by Kristen Proby

  “No. I don’t mind.” I take her hand in mine and kiss her knuckles just before I pull into a parking garage. I find a spot, hurry around the car to open Starla’s door, then lace her fingers with mine and lead her down the steep hill to the market below.”

  “Wait, I have to take a picture of this.” She stops me halfway down the hill and snaps a photo of the iconic Market sign with the Sound in the background.

  “Alki is right over there.” I point straight ahead at the beach across from us.

  “Wow, it looks so far away.” She sniffs the air. “Do I smell donuts?”

  “You have the nose of a bloodhound.”

  “I do when it comes to donuts,” she agrees. “And Mer told me about tiny donuts to die for.”

  “They aren’t just a legend.” I wrap my arm around her shoulders and kiss the top of her wig as she loops her arm around my waist. “I’ll buy you all the donuts you want, babe.”

  “Nice.” She smiles up at me. “Do we get to see flying fish, too?”

  “You already know a lot about the market.”

  “Yes, and now I get to see it.” She gives me a squeeze. “Thank you. For all of this. For all of today.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  The tiny donuts are a hit. She has to try some of every flavor, so we order three dozen of the little treats. I don’t complain; between the two of us, they’ll be gone before we leave here today.

  “Holy shit,” she mutters, her mouth full of cinnamon and sugar deliciousness. “So damn good.”

  “They’re my favorite.”

  “I have to go dance with Jax tomorrow,” she says before taking another bite. “If I don’t, I’ll gain twenty pounds.”

  “I think you’ll be okay.” We wander the short distance to where the fish throwers put on a show, and we’re not disappointed as a salmon goes flying through the air. We stand, eat, and watch until the crowd thins out a bit, then we walk on. Street musicians fill the air with songs, and we’re met with the scent of flowers and vegetables as we make our way farther into the covered market, weaving our way through the crowd.

  “Oh my God, look that these.” Starla leans down to smell a bunch of flowers and smiles happily. “I’ll take two.”

  “Two?”

  “One for me, and one for Lia. She earned them.”

  Starla’s kind-hearted. The more I’m with her, the more pulled to her I am. My dick is constantly at half-mast, and the slightest touch, the barest glance can set my body on fire.

  But more than that, I’m entranced by her sweet nature. Her humor. Her intelligence. Being with Starla is no hardship.

  We gather the flowers, pick through the produce to find some favorites, and then make our way back to the car.

  “This was incredible.”

  “I’m glad you liked it. We can come back anytime.”

  “No one looked twice at me,” she continues. “No side-eyes, no gropes.”

  “Wait. People grope you?”

  “All the time.” She shrugs as if it’s no big thing, but I’m pissed.

  “Why don’t you have security with you all the time?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Now you sound like Donald.”

  “Who the fuck is Donald?”

  “My manager.” She frowns up at me. “I don’t have constant security because I’m a human being who wants to live a normal life.”

  We get to the car, and I stow our things in the backseat before sitting next to her and slamming the door.

  “I understand how normalcy would be important, but you’re also a megastar, and there are real challenges that come with that.”

  “If you think I’m not aware of that—”

  “I know you are, I just think you should have better security.”

  “Thank you.” Her voice is calm, surprising me. “Thank you for caring enough about me to worry. It means more than you know.”

  She takes my hand and presses it against her cheek before kissing my palm. I went from DEFCON 6 to calm in three seconds.

  She’s amazing.

  “I’m always careful. And now I have magic makeup powers to help disguise myself when I want to go to the market with my boyfriend.”

  She’s smirking, but her eyes are serious as she watches for my reaction.

  I lean over and press my lips to hers, softly. Sweetly.

  “I’ll never let anything happen to you,” I promise. “Ever.”

  “I know.”

  “And then we went to the Space Needle.” Starla’s standing next to Natalie in the kitchen, sampling the yellow peppers from the salad. “And we could see forever.”

  “The view up there is incredible,” Natalie agrees with a grin. She’s stirring something on the stove. Luke walks up behind her and kisses her neck, then walks away. “I bet you could see all the way to Oregon on a beautiful day like today.”

  “I bet you’re right,” Starla says with a serious nod. “And the best part?”

  “Let me guess,” Luke says as he takes a seat next to me at the bar. “No one recognized you.”

  “Not one person,” Starla says before doing a little shimmy right there in the kitchen.

  Jesus, I want to boost her up onto the countertop and feast on her for dinner.

  “Lia’s so good,” Nat says. “Seriously, if I didn’t already know you, I don’t think I could have picked you out of a lineup.”

  “It’s amazing because what she did was so subtle. It’s all about contouring and shading.” Starla takes another bite of pepper. “How do you deal with the attention, Luke?”

  Luke frowns and takes a sip from his glass of beer. “I didn’t deal well, let me tell you.”

  “That’s how we met,” Nat says with a laugh. “He assaulted me on Alki Beach.”

  “Would you please stop telling people that?”

  “No way.” Nat sets her spoon aside and turns to Starla. “I was taking photos one morning . . . not of him—”

  “It looked like the lens was pointed at me.”

  “—and suddenly he rips my camera away from me and threatens to kill me if I don’t delete the photos.”

  “You’re getting a spanking,” Luke says with a sigh. “I never threatened to kill you.”

  “Okay, but he threatened legal action. And he tried to steal my camera.”

  “I’ve never heard this story,” I say with a laugh, picturing it in my head. “This could be the best how-did-you-meet story I’ve ever heard.”

  “I had to flip through the photos to prove to him that he wasn’t on there. He’s a little full of himself.”

  “Natalie,” Luke warns, making his wife giggle.

  “Actually, in all seriousness, Luke had a lot of anxiety about being recognized. That’s why he was pissed when he saw me taking the photos. He thought I was the press.”

  “I get it,” Starla says with a nod. “It sucks. I would think it’s better in Seattle than LA, though.”

  “It is,” Luke confirms. “But it still happens, especially back then when the Nightwalker movies were still fresh in everyone’s mind.”

  “I freaking loved those movies,” Starla says with an excited smile. “You were a hot vampire.”

  Luke squirms in his seat, making Natalie laugh.

  “Anyway, I didn’t recognize him,” Nat says. “I had no idea who this nut job was, aside from a handsome weirdo.”

  “Darling, you cut me to the core.”

  Nat waves him off.

  “Have you ever done the disguise thing?” I ask him.

  “No. I just became a recluse. And as time goes on, I’m recognized less. Or, people just leave me alone.”

  “It helps that he’s behind the camera now instead of in front of it,” Nat adds.

  “Unless I want to be a songwriter and not the singer, I don’t have that luxury,” Starla says with a sigh. “And I don’t mean to sound like I’m complaining. I’m not. I have a crazy, luxurious life.”

  “We understand,” Nat says with a supportive pat t
o Starla’s back. “You’re not ungrateful. You’re cautious. Because whether you like it or not, you’ve traded a good portion of your privacy for celebrity. And even with all of the benefits, there are some pitfalls.”

  “Some of them can be scary,” Luke adds. “But you’re a smart woman, Star, and you’ve been doing this a long time.”

  “Yeah.” She sighs, and I can tell that something is running through her gorgeous brain.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “I wonder how a person knows when it’s time to slow down.”

  “That’s up to you,” Nat replies. “Leo didn’t start to slow down until this year after Sam finally drew a line in the sand. She wants the luxury of living with her husband. But she also understands that the job is important to him.”

  “Will’s in the same boat,” Luke adds. “I think there comes a time for everyone when they start to really think about what’s most important. And it’s okay if those things change over time.”

  “Boy,” Starla says with a sigh. “This is a deep conversation. But thanks for listening. I guess I needed to talk to someone else who gets it, you know?”

  “Oh, I get it,” Luke assures her. “And I’m always here, just up the street, if you want to talk about it more.”

  “Thanks. Hey, don’t you have a million kids? Where are they?”

  “At Luke’s parents,” Nat says. “Trust me, it’s better this way.”

  “I like kids,” Starla says but won’t meet my eyes. “But this is good, too.”

  “I’m starving.” I change the subject on purpose. It’s time to lighten things up around here. But when I have Starla to myself, I have a list of questions for her.

  “Dinner’s ready,” Nat says. “Let’s eat.”

  ~Levi~

  “Feed her.”

  Joy, my brother Jace’s wife, gently places a tiny kitten in my hands then gives me a little bottle of milk.

  “Uh, Joy, I’m not really—”

  “If you want breakfast, you’ll feed her,” she says as she walks away and whisks the eggs.

  It’s the morning after my day out with Starla. I haven’t seen Jace in a couple of weeks thanks to both of our schedules, and I’m happy to spend time with him and Joy, catching up.

  I brush my thumb along the top of the kitten’s head and offer her the nipple, which she latches on to right away.

  “Do you ever feed her?”

  “Every two hours,” Joy confirms. “You should adopt her once she’s ready to go home.”

  “No.” I shake my head adamantly. “No pets for me.”

  “I’ll talk you into it eventually.” Joy’s voice is confident. She may be right, but I’ll continue putting up a fight.

  Mostly because it’s fun.

  “So, what have you been up to?” Joy asks, her voice way too nonchalant for me to believe she doesn’t already know what I’ve been doing.

  “Who have you talked to?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Bullshit.”

  She laughs, and I stare at Jace, who just shrugs and takes another sip of his coffee, watching his wife with the proverbial heart eyes.

  “There might be a rumor floating through the family that you’re dating Starla.”

  “And you’re looking for confirmation?”

  “Yes.” She stirs the eggs in the pan and smiles over at me. “So, what have you been up to?”

  “Nothing.” I laugh when she scowls.

  “Watching you two banter is exhausting,” Jace says.

  “It’s your fault, dude. You started bringing her around fifteen years ago, and she’s been a pain in my ass ever since.”

  “Hey,” Joy demands. “You love me, and you know it.”

  “I can love you and still find you to be a pain in my ass.” The kitten is making a mess of the milk, so I set the bottle down and use a paper towel to clean her up. “Is she done?”

  Joy shrugs because she knows my pain in the ass statement is true, and once she has our plates loaded with eggs and bacon, she sets them in front of us, then takes the kitten from me and tucks her into a warm blanket.

  “She’s done. And I have toast coming.” Joy says.

  “This is way more than I expected when I said I was coming over.”

  “You’ve got to eat,” she replies. “And, if you’re not dating Starla, which as you pointed out is none of my business, I have a new doctor at my clinic I’d like to introduce you to. MaryLou. She’s super smart and funny. Right, Jace?”

  “Sure,” he says, shoving eggs in his pie-hole.

  “Whose side are you on?” I ask him, earning an eye roll.

  “I have sex with her,” he reminds me. “Whose side do you think I’m on?”

  “Anyway, MaryLou is super sweet, and I think you’d hit it off.” I glare at my sister-in-law and, in my head, run through all the ways I could kill her and make it look like an accident before she follows up with, “I just want you to be happy, Levi. I love you.”

  Okay, there will be no killing today.

  “Are you going to control your woman?” I ask my brother.

  “Nope.”

  I sigh and take a bite of toast. “I’ve been seeing Starla.”

  “I knew it!” Joy pumps her fist in victory. “Tell me everything. Not just your cop version of the events, which is never enough. Everything, Crawford.”

  “You’re truly a pain in my ass.”

  “Go on. Spill it.”

  I look helplessly at Jace, but he just shrugs.

  “It’s not the job giving me the grey hair, it’s my nosy-ass sisters-in-law.”

  Joy just watches me expectantly, and finally, I cave.

  “It’s really pretty normal dating stuff.”

  “Like?”

  “I took her out to dinner, to the Pop Culture Museum, the Market. You know, the usual.”

  “Without being mobbed?”

  “Lia helped.” I tell them about Lia giving Starla a disguise. “It was fun to take her out where she could relax and enjoy herself.”

  “That’s so awesome,” Joy says. “She seems really nice.”

  “She is.”

  “So that’s it?”

  “That’s it.” I shove more food into my mouth and chew, holding Joy’s gaze with my own in a stare-down of wits.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “What else do you want to know?”

  “Are you sleeping with her?”

  “Jesus, Joy.”

  “I told you, I want to know everything.”

  “No,” I blurt, surprised at myself. “No, I’m not sleeping with her. Not for now.”

  Jace and Joy both blink at me in surprise.

  “Really?” Jace asks first. “Wow.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Just wow,” he says. “From what you told me, the chemistry is crazy hot, so I just figured—”

  “Wait,” Joy says, holding up a hand. “He told you the chemistry is hot? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because some things are private,” I say at last and then feel like shit when her eyes have hurt in them. “And because she fucked me up in the head before, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I just needed to talk it out with Jace.”

  “I can see that,” Joy says, the hurt leaving her eyes. “How do you feel?”

  “Still a little messed up,” I admit. “But I like her, and I want to get to know her better.”

  “Well, I think it’s fantastic,” Joy says. “I’ll keep MaryLou as a backup, just in case.”

  “You’re a meddler,” I say, pointing at her with my toast.

  “Thank you for noticing.”

  “Jesus, why does the paperwork pile up over the weekend?”

  I stare at my inbox, both on my desk and on the computer, and sigh.

  “Because everyone missed you, Crawford,” Anderson says from the doorway of my office just as my phone rings.

  “Crawford.”

  “This is dispa
tch. We have a burglary call at 7720 North 77th Street.”

  “On my way.” I stand and reach for my leather jacket. “Paperwork will have to wait. We have a call. You’re with me.”

  “I’m ready,” Anderson replies and falls into step behind me. Anderson’s a rookie. He’s been in my division for less than a year, but I like him. He has strong instincts, and a solid work ethic, which I’ve found is sorely lacking in the young guys coming through the academy these days.

  The drive to the address in question takes ten minutes. When we pull up, there’s already a cruiser there with its lights flashing, and the front door of the house is open. Neighbors stand outside and on tiptoe to peek through windows, trying to see what’s going on.

  I approach, calling out my name and rank.

  The patrolman on scene steps to the door.

  “A woman named Francesca Smith called it in,” he says, quickly briefing me. “She insists that she’s missing property but can’t tell me exactly what’s gone.”

  “Tape off the perimeter,” I instruct him. “I don’t want neighbors walking on the property in case we need to look for footprints in the grass.”

  “Will do.”

  He nods and steps out, and Anderson and I walk in to find a crying woman on the couch.

  “Hello, Miss Smith, I’m Detective Crawford, and this is my partner, Officer Anderson.”

  “Hello,” she whines, sniffing at her tears. “Thank you for coming.”

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “Well, like I told the other guy, I woke up and just knew someone had been in my house.”

  “How do you know?” I ask as Anderson takes his phone out of his pocket and starts taking notes. I survey the scene, looking over the windows and doors to the outside.

  Aside from the front door, it doesn’t appear that anything is open.

  “I could feel it,” she says. “And I know you’re going to tell me I’m crazy, but I’m not. I have women’s intuition.”

  “I don’t think you’re crazy.”

  Yet.

  “Were any of your doors or windows open?”

  “No,” she says and sniffs again. “But my mother’s wedding ring is missing.”

  This piques my interest.

  “Can you describe it?”